


Playing Doctor

by Wherever_Girl



Category: Borderlands (Video Games)
Genre: Implied/Referenced Torture, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-08-15
Updated: 2020-08-15
Packaged: 2021-03-05 22:08:17
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,291
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25922587
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Wherever_Girl/pseuds/Wherever_Girl
Summary: Jack: Hey, look! She decided to up the rating on this one! ...don't see why though. I mean, outside of the fact that I have to look at your---Rhys: L-Let's skip this one!Jack: Oh c'mon, it's not that bad!Rhys: *groan* I hate fics where they make me sound like a helpless victim...Jack: ...You hate fics that keep you in-character? XDRhys: T_T Not. Funny.Jack: Okay, but seriously, you REALLY NEED to lay off the ice-cream, Rhysie.Rhys: Shut up! >_<Me: ...how do you guys keep getting into the summary?[Prompt: Rhys ends up badly hurt by his rival. Jack helps tend to his scars. Vasquez suffers a fate worse than death. And the authoress needs to find someone to fix the fourth wall that was broken during the making of this story.]
Relationships: Handsome Jack/Rhys (Borderlands)
Comments: 2
Kudos: 27





	Playing Doctor

**Author's Note:**

> I am 99% sure this could have been written better. Honestly, I just wanted to write a scenario where Rhys is trying to cover up his injuries and Jack manages to figure out what happened. 
> 
> Another shout out to NessiefromSpace and PoisonJack whose stories filled my imagination with fluffy ideas for these two :3c
> 
> Disclaimer: All rights belong to Telltale Games, Gearbox, and 2K

_*Crack!*_

_“I hope you understand I’m doing this for your own good…”_

_*Crack!*_

_“…I mean, you gotta be a tough guy to climb the ladder at Hyperion,”_

_*Crack!*_

_“And honestly, I don’t think you’ve really got the balls for it.”_

_*Crack!*_

_“That is, until you can handle this…”_

_*Crack!*_

_“Without,”_

_*Crack!*_

_“Shedding,”_

_*Crack!*_

_“A tear.”_

_…_

_*Crack!*_

_“Ha! Made you cry!”_

0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0

*Fwoosh!*

Handsome Jack stepped away from the airlock, whistling a tune to himself without giving a second thought to the person who he just banished into the depths of space, and not blinking an eye as their corpse floated by the outside window. Just another ‘business partner’ who thought they could intimidate him enough to get a large cut of their trade agreement--- well, clearly they didn’t realize the powerful CEO was not easy to scare. Hell, the only way to tell that Jack was startled was when you caught him off-guard and he shot you in the face--- not that you could tell since, you know, you’d be dead.

“Alright, Rhysie, what’s next on the agenda?” Jack asked as he walked over to his desk, taking a seat in his large yellow chair and propping his feet up on his desk.

His personal assistant stood at his own desk, hunched over as he typed at his computer. “Well, you DID have another meeting scheduled, but one of the board members got his face shot off this morning, so I rescheduled it to next Thursday.”

“Geez, what did the guy do to get shot in the face?”

“Heh, you tell me. You shot him!”

Jack rubbed his chin. “Oh yeah… Ah well. What else is on the schedule, kiddo?”

Rhys hunched over to look again. “Uh, nothing else, except Vasquez wants your input on something.”

“Vasquez… Vasquez… I don’t quite recall that name…”

“You know, the guy you call ‘Wallethead’.”

“…Oh him! Ha ha, probably wants another punch to the face. I swear, there are guys who kiss ass, guys who can take a punch… then there’s guys who kiss ass _while_ getting punched. You know what? Send him an email, tell him I’ll meet with him at 6:00 this afternoon--- there’s some calls I need to make,”

“What kind of calls?”

“The ‘I don’t want to hear that kiss-ass drabble on’ kind,”

Rhys smirked, shaking his head as he typed up the email.

Jack leaned forth to work at his own computer. Surely there were some ‘sweet deals’ he could make with someone on Pandora. The whole planet was one huge black-market, people willing to sell vintage tech, rare materials, hell even their own mothers!, in order to make some fast cash. Who knows? Maybe there was a Vault Key to be found.

When nothing was coming up, he turned to his personal assistant to see if he could use his ECHO-eye to hack into some encrypted websites. …Sure, the CEO had the know-how to do it himself, but he liked giving Rhys fun stuff to do--- watching as he tried so hard to keep a cool expression despite excitement flashed in his eyes (organic and otherwise) as he hacked some codes to answer the boss man’s request always gave Jack some amusement… and considering he had murdered 2 guys and it wasn’t even lunchtime yet, he needed something amusing to help pass the time.

He looked over, seeing Rhys was still standing up, the younger man stretching his back, letting out a soft hiss as he did so. No surprise, the guy had been standing over his keyboard all morning.

“Hey, princess, mind doing a bit of hacking?” Jack called to him. “Got some encryptions on here for you to crack,”

“No problem,” Rhys answered, walking over to Handsome Jack’s computer; his ECHO-eye lit up as he worked his magic, breaking down firewalls and cracking codes before… “And you’re in,”

“Hey, not bad, kiddo.” Jack answered, and gave his personal assistant a slap on the back.

“AGH!” Rhys arched back, letting out an intense hiss of pain. He clenched his teeth, doing his best not to curl up in agony in front of the man he so highly respected. “No… p-problem!”

Jack arched an eyebrow. “What was _that_ reaction? I didn’t hit you that hard!” he scoffed. He had given Rhys a few smacks upside the head before, often for just being a smartass, but the man always shrugged it off.

“Sorry! Just… h-having a lot of back trouble, lately. My mattress sucks,” The cyborg coughed a bit, composing himself and turning to his boss. “Anything else you need me to do?”

The CEO only arched an eyebrow, before nodding over to Rhys’ desk. “Nah, that’s it. Get back to work, cupcake.”

Rhys nodded, walking over and standing over his keyboard once again. Damn, no wonder he was having back problems, the kid was always hunched over his screen! It was like every time Jack looked over, his personal assistant was already on his feet, as if ready to run an errand for him!

Actually, come to think of it, Jack hadn’t seen Rhys sit down at all today. The kid’s been on his feet since the moment he clocked in! Of course, one would consider this some form of dedication--- Handsome Jack always loved an employee who was ready to answer to any task--- but Rhys wasn’t that much of a kiss-up. A fanboy, sure, but he still had _some_ shred of dignity.

“You know… it would be a lot more comfortable to _sit down_ while you worked,” Jack commented, observing this personal assistant closely.

“I-I’m good standing up…” Rhys began to answer.

“That wasn’t a suggestion, Rhys. _Sit. Down.”_

Rhys gulped, giving his boss a nervous look for a moment before looking at his chair. Turning his eyes back to his computer, he slowly began to sit down, the look on his face a mix of anxiety and discomfort, as if he were bracing himself for something---

_“SIT!”_

“Gah!” Rhys yelped and quickly sat down… then let out a pained grunt the moment his tush hit the chair. “…ow…”

Jack watched him; the cyborg looked like he had sat down on a pile of nails! (…hmm, may file that away for a torture method, later.)

“Alright, Rhysie. Come back over here,” The CEO ordered, after watching the young man take a deep breath.

“W-What? You just told me to---“

“NOW, Rhys!”

Rhys groaned, but got up and walked over. Jack made a motion for him to turn around. “Show me your back,”

“What?!”

*Slap!*

“OWWW!” Rhys howled in pain when Jack slapped him on the ass!

“Want another for the other cheek, or are you going to listen?” Jack firmly questioned. “Take off your shirt. Let me see your back,”

Rhys let out an embarrassed whine, but did as he was told, taking off his blazer and unbuttoning his shirt (while praying to God that no one would walk in during this awkward moment) and pulling it off.

Jack’s eyes widened. All over Rhys’ back were scars--- fresh ones, he could tell, not being a stranger to the inflictions of bodily damage and how long ago they had been given. “Damn, kitten… what did you _do_ over the weekend?” he questioned, keeping his tone casual and covering up his surprise. (Not that it was surprising that Rhys would come into work with a few damages, with the kind of shit he gets himself into every now and then, but still… damn.)

“Just… had a rough weekend, that’s all.” Rhys replied, trying to keep his tone even.

Jack looked closer, finding the scars went down further. He tugged on the rim of the younger man’s pants, receiving an ‘eep!’ in reply. “Take off the belt,”

“Jack---!”

“Off!”

Rhys muttered under his breath, his face turning red as he undid his belt. _Please let no one walk in, please let no one walk in…_ he mentally begged; rumors spread like wildfire up in Hyperion, and the last thing he needed were stories going around that the boss-man was *ahem* ‘doing graphically inappropriate things to him’ _right in the office_.

“Guh!” the cyborg gasped, as the CEO pulled his pants down—not far, just enough to _see his bare ass!_

“Must’ve been one hell of a weekend if even your ass is--- oh, damn, look how round it is! You gotta lay off the icecream, kiddo.” Jack commented, tilting his head a bit as he ‘examined’ his personal assistant’s (…or, _ass-_ istent from this point on) rear end. The scars were really thick there, and it seemed there was some extra bruising, most notably from a blunt instrument.

“…can I _please_ get redressed, now?” Rhys groused. He let out a yelp when Jack--- quickly and aggressively--- yanked his pants up… a _bit_ too high. “Wedgie! Ouch!”

Jack stood up, leaning against his desk as he faced his personal assistant. “Alright, Rhysie. Wanna explain all of this? Because all I can think of is that you might be one hell of a masochist... which, hey, that’s your business. Everyone’s got a fetish--- ever wonder why Henderson likes bunnies so much? Don’t, uh, think about it too much.”

Rhys rubbed his backside, giving Jack a stern look. “I just… got out of a bad fight, that’s all.”

The CEO scoffed, giving him a friendly smile (or, as friendly as he could muster). “Rhys, babe, c’mon. This is Handsome Jack you’re talking to! There’s no reason to hide the truth from me--- especially since I can just back-track the security footage and figure it out for myself.” When his personal assistant didn’t crack under that warning, Jack decided to try and appeal to the kid’s ego. “I mean, c’mon. I gotta find out what kind of monster you went up against that could claw up your ass so badly; I’ve seen you take on cannibalistic bandits and electrocute the hell out of assassins with ease! So tell me, cupcake, who or what did you piss off to get your pretty little cheeks all beat up?”

Rhys made a sound of disconcert in his throat. Finally, he took a breath and told Jack…

“It was some bandit lord,” The personal assistant stated boldly, keeping his tone cool. “Yeah, called himself Bossanova or something lame like that. Vaugh and I went out for a few drinks, ended up on Pandora when things got a little crazy--- and, well, next thing you know this overgrown douche bag was trying to kill us for our wallets. Well, I had a Loader Bot drop in to take out his goons and shield Vaughn while I took on the big guy.” He thumbed at his back. “Turns out he was well-prepared for a fight and got a few lucky shots in when I hit the dirt… but I managed to blow his head off when he thought he claimed victory.”

Jack rubbed his chin. “Impressive… so if I send someone to Pandora to confirm Bossanova is dead--- or, in a short route, ask your friend Vaughn about it--- they can confirm all this?”

Rhys put on his most confident smile. “By all means.”

Jack gave him a look, trying to read his poker face… before patting him on the shoulder. “Well, well, kiddo! I like that tenacious attitude of yours! Need more personal assistants who aren’t afraid to take on some roughneck assholes… actually, how about I promote you? I could use a new Vice President--- someone with the balls you have,”

Rhys grinned. “Sounds like a good deal…”

_[Handsome Jack’s A/N: Hold on there, cupcake! That is NOT how that went!]_

_[Rhys’ A/N: What? Of course it did!]_

_[Handsome Jack’s A/N: …]_

_[Rhys’ A/N: …at least, in my head…]_

_[Handsome Jack’s A/N: Tell them what you ACTUALLY told me, princess.]_

_[Rhys’ A/N: Oh come ON! You know what happens after that!]_

_[Handsome Jack’s A/N: So? I’ve seen how this chick writes. This is nothing! What’s this story rated, T? Not quite enough to get the hormonal fangirls rolling in, Rhysie. Now, if they REALLY want some smut---]_

_[Rhys’ A/N: Alright, already! I’ll tell the story right! Just… shut up about all that, will you?!]_

_[Handsome Jack’s A/N: Oh like you haven’t read a few dozen smut fics about us, yourself!]_

_[My A/N: …h-how did you guys get into the author’s notes? 0_o]_

Rhys made a sound of disconcert in his throat. Finally, he took a breath and told Jack…

“I… I went out for a couple drinks with Vaughn on Saturday night. It was the usual weekend for us--- a few beers, karaoke, some pinball, try to get laid, stuff like that. But… this night turned out differently. My drink ended up getting spiked while I was throwing darts; when I came to, my cybernetic parts had been disabled, and I was tied up in a dark room. I heard voices and… then I felt pain. Lots… _and lots_ … of pain.”

“So, what, someone forced you to be part of some snuff stuff?” Jack questioned. He shrugged. “Well, could have been worse. At least you didn’t get raped… did you?”

“No--- thank God, no...” Rhys breathed. “And it wasn’t really a snuff thing… just… I dunno, he said something about how I needed to be tough if I wanted to climb the corporate ladder, and… honestly, I just think he wanted to see me in pain.”

“’He’? Who is ‘he’?”

Rhys clenched his hands. “Vasquez.”

Jack arched his eyebrows. “Wallethead?? Damn, what’s he got against you?”

“We’ve been rivals for a while… H-He tends to pull shit like this every once in a while. Vaughn and I tend to get him back later on, when he’s least expecting it,”

“Tch. This isn’t some classroom where you guys pull pranks on each other, Rhysie--- hell, if you guys want to beat the shit out of each other, at least let people place bets! And how are you two even rivals? You’re my personal assistant, and he’s… well, honestly I don’t give a shit.”

“I think that’s the reason. I mean, being a personal assistant doesn’t exactly sound like the top of the line job, but what gives it merit is that I’m working directly with you, and Vasquez no doubt wants that kind of position--- right at your side.” Rhys felt himself blush a bit. “I-I mean, not that I’m always at your side, but… c-can I put my shirt back on?”

Jack gave a condescending chuckle. “Of course that would be the reason. People would fight each other for a chance to be my personal _footstool_ for crying out loud! Not even joking. The winner didn’t have a strong enough back and didn’t last a week… But anyway, if Vasquez has it out for you, why did he even let you come back alive?”

Rhys shook his head. “He didn’t plan to. After he made me… uh, after he was done, he just left me to die. Vaughn managed to find me--- he told me how I was acting weird at the bar, and when he walked me out to the car, he was knocked out. When he came to, he had Yvette track the security footage, found out what vehicle they used, and did a lot of tracking. He found me Sunday morning and took me home.”

“Why didn’t he take you to the hospital first?”

The cyborg gave his boss a look. “Because it’s still under renovation? You know, from the _rocket-launcher_ incident?”

Jack thought back. “…oh yeah, the prototype with the broken safety…”

“Don’t worry. Vaughn pretty much has a closet filled with medical supplies for any emergency. He managed to sterilize my wounds--- well, the ones on my back, I had to do my… *ahem* a-anyway, he was out of bandages, so I had to come to work as-is.”

The CEO rubbed his face… dammit, if Rhys wasn’t the perfect balance of ass-kissing fanboy and ballsy smart-mouth, Jack would drop him through his trap door for being an idiot. Sure, the kid could crack codes, help him out with some shady dealers, and make one hell of a cup of coffee… but oh man, was he a total idiot. He looked at his personal assistant, seeing the shame on his face.

 _What’s there to be ashamed of? Getting drugged and beaten by some jealous creep who has a man-crush on ol’ Handsome Jack? It just goes to show how lucky he is to be working so close to a hero!_ Jack thought… and as the word ‘hero’ sprang to mind, he figured he could help the kid out. A little. “Come with me,” he said, not really giving Rhys an option as he grabbed him by his flesh arm and led him across the office.

“W-Where are we going?” Rhys asked, though his answer came when Jack pushed a button on the wall, a secret door opening and showing off a luxurious bathroom. “…Whoa.”

“Nice, huh? What, you didn’t think I take a shit in the same place as everyone else here, did you? That’s how people catch herpes, you know.”

“Why did you bring me in here?”

“Why else? We’re going to properly treat your wounds, pumpkin.” Jack opened up a medicine cabinet, taking out a first-aid kid. “One of the perks of being the head of the company is that you get access to the best supplies. …Alright, shirt off and pants down again. Lets go,”

Rhys blushed. “I can treat myself!”

“Unless you plan on detaching your cybernetic arm and using it to smear ointment on your back--- which, judging by the look in your eye, you probably are--- you’re gonna want my help. Now c’mon, princess, the sooner we get this done, the sooner we can both get on with our day, alright?”

The personal assistant let out an agitated sigh. “Fine… but knock it off with the nicknames,”

“No promises… _kitten,”_

The cyborg rubbed his face, but decided to get it over with. Taking off his shirt, he turned around. Something both warm and cool touched his scars and he let out a strained whimper, gripping the sink. He relaxed a little as he felt large hands gently rub it on his back, though the pain still stung.

“By the way,” Jack spoke up while he applied the antibacterial ointment. “If Vasquez did this to you, why haven’t you told anyone about it? I mean, Hyperions throwing each other into life-or-death situations is nothing new, and with your hacking style you could probably make his life a total hell in a heartbeat. Shit, you could have given me the details and I would have a good reason to strangle someone! Then that ‘meeting’ he wants with me would be worthwhile.”

Rhys shook his head. “I think… I think everyone knows by now. H-He recorded it,”

The CEO arched an eyebrow. “How do you know?”

“Because… h-he showed me the footage on my way in this morning. He told me he was going to send it to everyone… c-chances are, he probably plans on showing it to you when you meet with him. Make everyone think I’m a total pansy,”

“Tch, if he’s that stupid. He probably wants to blackmail you into leaving Hyperion--- which would do no good, since you told me everything already. I mean, c’mon, does he really think showing me a video where my personal assistant getting his ass whipped would impress me? I’d feed him to a bunch of skags for messing with ya! File it under, ‘misappropriation of property’ or something.”

Rhys paused, looking over his shoulder at his boss. “R… Really?”

“Pants down, sweetheart.”

Rhys turned away, blushing. “I… I can---“

“Want me to slap your ass again?”

“Alright, alright! …sheesh, why don’t you just admit you want to touch my ass?”

Jack smirked, leaning close and whispering in his ear. “Maybe I do, Rhysie…”

Rhys turned, facing him. “Then… what’s the hold up?”

_[Handsome Jack and Rhys’s A/N: THAT’S NOT WHAT HAPPENED!]_

_[My A/N: Fine, fine! Geez… can’t blame me for trying…]_

“Alright, alright! …sheesh, why don’t you just admit you want to touch my ass?” Rhys muttered, red in the face as he pulled his pants down to his knees.

“Don’t flatter yourself, kiddo. Just want to make sure it’s done right--- you did a crap job at taking care of your injuries, and I don’t want a personal assistant who can’t sit down without cringing--- unless it’s in fear, but I prefer that look on clients who tried to screw me out of a deal,” Jack sneered, scooping up more of the ointment onto his fingers. “This stuff is expensive, can’t have you smearing on too much and wasting it. …Aaaand seeing you blush like hell is pretty fun to see, too.” Rhys gave him a dirty look. “Ah knock it off with the glares, already. It’ll be done before you know it,”

Rhys felt the sting of the ointment on one of the scars, and immediately went to his happy place. _Puppies, kittens, warm socks, ice-cream (ow!) …bikini calendars, taco night at Vaughn’s, Doritos (ouch!) …a cool new car… anything… just don’t… don’t…_

“Done,” Jack spoke, while wiping his hands off with a towel. He did a double-take. “Wh… are you crying? Seriously?”

Rhys quickly wiped his eyes, letting out a breath he didn’t know he had been holding. “No! Just… I have allergies,” he went to pull up his pants, but Jack grabbed him by the wrists.

“We’re not done yet,” the CEO held up a roll of bandages. “Hold out your arms,”

The personal assistant did so, allowing his boss to bandage him, feeling him apply soft patches to the extra sensitive parts before wrapping over them. By the time he was done, you could barely see a single trace of a scar. “Wow. You’re good at this,” the cyborg complimented.

“ _Duh,_ idiot. I’ve had to tend to my own scrapes after a fight--- learned a thing or two, mainly that a medic can turn out to be an assassin and try to poison you during vaccinations,” Jack put away the medical supplies.

Rhys shifted, pulling up his pants. “Well, um… t-thank you, Handsome Jack. I really appreciate it…”

Jack’s ECHO-pad dinged just then and he looked at the message. He gave a scowl. “Is this the video you told me about?”

The younger man looked and bit his lip, nodding. It was a message from Vasquez, the text reading, _‘Hey, sir, don’t know if you want to see this, but someone got footage of your personal assistant breaking down after a beating!’_ with a thumbnail of Rhys’ tear-stained face.

Jack stared at the message for a moment; seeing his fanboy with tears in his eyes and a face full of distress did not please him in the slightest. Far from it, actually. He replied with, _‘Meg, I swear to God, if you keep sending me clickbait spam messages, I’m going to personally unleash a bunch of psychos into your house to tear off your face!’_

He ignored whatever reply Vasquez would send, and instead turned his attention to Rhys; the cyborg had his face in his hands, trying to cover up his complete and utter humiliation. “Rhys. Are you crying?” he asked, his tone less critical this time, and more soft.

There was a beat, before Rhys slowly shook his head--- obviously lying, or at least trying not to break down in front of the man he admired.

“Move your hands, then.”

Another beat, and Rhys… turned around before lowering his hands, head hanging low.

“Turn around…”

Hesitantly, he did so, the cyborg keeping his head down.

“C’mon, Rhysie. Look at me.” Jack reached forth, cupping his chin between his index finger and thumb, lifting it up.

Rhys had his eyes closed--- oh for crying out loud!

“Rhys. _Look at me_.”

The younger man did as he was told, eyelids shakily lifting open as he looked his boss right in the eye…

Biting his lip, Rhys jerked away, his flesh arm covering his face while his cybernetic one rested on the sink. A sob escaped, but he took a deep breath, trying to hold the rest in.

Jack rested a hand on his shoulder. “Rhys, c’mon, what’s so upsetting about this? I’ve seen a hundred employees post worse stuff on social media! I mean, did you SEE Henderson’s vacation pictures? Yikes!” when the joke did not lighten the mood, he turned the younger man, both hands on his shoulders. “Hey, Rhysie, it’s alright…”

“It’s not alright!” Rhys blurted out, choking on a sob. “This is what he wanted… he _wanted_ you to see me cry… fuck, I’m pathetic…”

“Geez, you’re an idiot. I see people cry all the time, mostly when they’re begging for their lives! …Actually, _I_ prefer to be the one making them cry. But this isn’t something worth crying about! Some douche just wants to humiliate you--- again, everyone on Hyperion does that do each other. I’m the only one they don’t mess with because 1) _they_ know that _I_ know people who can remove their spines, and 2) I sign their paychecks. What’s the big deal?”

“I… didn’t want _you_ to see me cry…” Rhys muttered, sniffling a bit. “It’s weak.”

Jack let out a heavy sigh. Sure, he never wanted to be seen crying either, but that didn’t mean he never shed a tear. He just learned how to not cry over dumb shit like this. But for Rhys? Breaking down in front of Handsome Jack himself (without being under threat or being exposed to disturbing imagery) was enough to damage anyone’s integrity, and it was clear he had been trying all day not to do so.

But to call Rhys weak? No. A bit of an idiot at times, and not exactly the baddest of the badasses, but he was not weak. Especially for feeling humiliated in front of his frickin’ idol! (Now if he were crying over a soap opera, _then_ Jack would think less of him).

“C’mon, babe. You’re not weak. I’ve seen you walk out of the office with blood on your face, try to snap a bandit’s neck (you weren’t very good at it, but hey, points for trying), and survive all sorts of chaos around here. A real weakling would shit his pants and quit after being here five minutes! Not to mention, you’re the only personal assistant I’ve kept around for more than two weeks--- the rest I ended up firing because they were too scared to focus on work, or would kiss up so much I had to airlock them to shut up! But you, Rhys? You’re not weak. …A total idiot, but not weak.”

Rhys looked at him, still feeling disgraced but also confused. Was Handsome Jack--- the guy who was practically a mass-murdering megalomaniac--- actually trying to cheer him up? “I… It’s still humiliating…”

“But not worth crying over--- and it sure as hell isn’t worth keeping quiet about!” Jack reached, gently rubbing his back. “Could have had this all taken care of sooner if you didn’t try to be a tough guy about it, babe. …C’mon, back to the office.”

“What about my… never mind,” Rhys began to ask, but decided he could put his shirt on later, feeling his boss’ hand rubbing his back giving him a sense of ease.

Rather than going back to their desks, Jack led him over to the couch, sitting down. “Lay down, pumpkin.”

Rhys froze. “W-What?!”

Jack rolled his eyes. “Are you going to have that reaction every time I tell you to do something? C’mon, it’s getting old.”

Rhys sat down (hissing a bit) and began to lay down on his side… until Jack grabbed his shoulder, pulling him toward himself. “On your stomach, kid.”

The cyborg lied on his elbows, hesitating. “But… my head would be on your lap…”

“Hey, who said Handsome Jack doesn’t let someone use his lap? A lot of ladies say it’s the best place to lay down and sit down… sometimes even the best to---“

“Please stop,” Rhys sighed, lying his head down and hoping no one saw this. He tensed for a bit but relaxed again when he felt the CEO’s hand rubbing his back again. “…um, w-why are you doing this, Jack?”

“All part of the treatment, princess. Now, are you going to keep talking, or enjoy it?”

Rhys scoffed, but smiled a bit. He closed his eyes, and decided to listen to his boss, shut up, and relax.

…

It was a few hours later when he woke up, finding his shirt covering him like a blanket, a pillow under his head, and Handsome Jack at his computer. “Welcome back, sleeping beauty.” The CEO quipped once he noticed he was awake.

“Sorry, I didn’t mean to fall asleep,” Rhys replied, slipping his shirt back on and standing up. “Anything you need me to catch up on?”

“Nahhh, it’s been a slow day. It’s almost quitting time anyway, why don’t you go meet up with your buddy and clock out early?”

“A-Are you sure?”

“Yeah… in fact, take the week off. I can have Meg fill in--- she needs more shit to keep busy anyway--- and I want you to have time off to let that backside of yours heal. And take better care of it! No offense, Rhysie, but I don’t want to have to ‘play doctor’ with you all the time,”

Rhys blushed, but gave a nod. “Thank you, sir.” He began to walk towards the door, but paused. “Um… what about Vasquez?”

“Who? …oh yeah, him. Already taken care of, kiddo.”

“Did you…?” Rhys made a slice motion across his neck.

Jack chuckled. “Nah… figured I’d make him suffer for a while, first. Now hurry up and take your vacation!”

“Thank you!” Rhys walked out the office.

Down the hallway, Vaughn came running up to him with Yvette. “Holy shit, Rhys! Are you alright?! Everyone got this video… it was, um---” Yvette said, sympathetically.

“Sadistic, embarrassing, shot with a bad filter, and just… argh!” Vaughn grunted, stomping his foot. “I swear, Assquez is going to regret this! …Rhys! How’s your back?”

“It’s okay. I, ah, took a break and had it treated again, got it bandaged up and everything.” Rhys answered. “I got the week off, too.”

“Seriously? Handsome Jack gave you a week off?”Yvette questioned, arching an eyebrow. “How’d you manage that?”

“He just said I had a lot of vacation time to use up, and if I didn’t use it now I wouldn’t see a day off until I died--- and considering the company could get fined for employees taking zero time off, he said that day would come sooner than I expected,” Rhys lied… knowing that he’d get airlocked if he told the truth, and that’s if his friends even believed him.

As they walked, they heard a loud cry coming from down the hall; they paused at the corner, looking down and seeing Vazquez on his knees. “I don’t believe it… I… I’ve been demoted to a _janitor?!”_ he was sputtering. “Why?! How?! Just… aaaaaahhhhhh!”

The three friends looked at each other, exchanging smirks at this newfound information, each of them plotting to figure out what exactly to put in their trashcans (or leave in the toilets) for their ‘new custodian’ to clean up.

Rhys looked over his shoulder back at Jack’s office, giving a smile.

Watching on the security cameras, Jack zoomed in on his expression. “Yep. I figured he’d like that,” he chuckled to himself, then deleted the video from his phone.

He didn’t plan on seeing Rhys cry again anytime soon.

**Author's Note:**

> Being a janitor is worse than dying. Trust me, I should know. ;-;


End file.
